Goal!
by ThePrinceRomani
Summary: Alfred F. Jones just wants to play football after seeing the International Team in a scrimmage match. He soon becomes rivals with Russia's best player, Ivan Braginski. RusAme. Other pairings implied. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

Sunshine

Football. The only sport that can bring together so many people from so many nations. And the only sport that Alfred F. Jones could dedicate himself to.

The roar of the crowds was more than enough for him to become interested. The allure was at first only from the fame and fortune that came with playing but soon he became very interested.

It all began when he realized all his foreign friends would spend hours after school on the soccer field. He had tried American football before but it was never something he enjoyed. The sweating and the grunt work of the sport was too much for the rather lazy boy. It was too much stop and go rather than one or the either.

"Yo, Matty! What do you think about soccer?" he asked his roommate and half-brother, Matthew Williams, at the breakfast table one morning.

Matthew sat his creamy cup of coffee down and looked at his brother in confusion. Usually they did not speak in the morning, and never did they talk about sports unless the Cowboys lost.

"Soccer? You mean football?" he asked.

"Yeah, football! Football, soccer, same difference, right? They're literally the same sport!" Alfred scoffed.

Matthew felt a slight blush creep across his cheeks, looking down at his eggs and toast.

"They are…but most people here in Canada call it 'football'. We go to an international school, so you should get used to calling it by the international version." Matthew said but Alfred did not retain a word of it.

"Yeah, but what do you think about it?" he asked again.

Matthew sighed and decided being direct would get better results.

"Well, I don't play it much but I like it enough. It's a lot like hockey, eh?" he said and Alfred nodded a bit, biting into his toast.

"Yeah! They've got nets and balls and sexual tension!" Alfred said proudly.

"Th-That's not what I meant…" Matthew stuttered out but Alfred did not hear him.

"Thanks, man!" Alfred said, grabbing his toast and a bottle of orange juice and heading out the front door…forgetting his brother entirely.

"…Have a nice day…" Matthew managed.

Alfred was already too far gone from their small dormitory as he made his way across campus to the football field. Just as he expected, plenty of the students were already there playing.

There was the captain of the football team, Antonio Carriedo Fernandez, passing to the Japanese student, Honda Kiku. He tried to score on the German goal keeper, Gilbert Bielschmidt, but failed as the albino expertly blocked the goal.

He tossed it to the French player, Francis Bonnefoy, who in turn elegantly played circles around the Englishman, Arthur Kirkland. Arthur screamed at him in frustration but then another player made a fast play and slide-tackled the ball out of the Frenchman's grasp.

Lovino Vargas was much more aggressive on the field than he was in classes. He passed it to his twin brother, Feliciano Vargas, who then passed it to the other German, Ludwig Bielschmidt. The German scored on the Chinese goalie, Yao Wang.

That is when the most intimidating aura walked past him. Alfred almost didn't see him coming but he could feel him. He looked up and saw the tallest student he'd ever seen, staring up in mild awe.

The boy-man-tall-thing strode past him, taking long steps and seemingly ignoring Alfred. Whoever he was he was tall, light and handsome but his aura was dark. He had fair platinum-blond hair and fair skin. His eyes were somewhat unsettling as they were purple.

Alfred watched in silence as the person walked past him. He held his breath and watched as he took off his coat and shirt, revealing the uniform beneath his layers and headed onto the field.

This person made his way onto the field and the Chinese goalie immediately stepped out of the goal, handing the gloves to the tall boy.

He smirked in confidence and the outcome of the scrimmage had a rather dramatic turn around. The giant of a goalie stopped every ball that came his way. And when it was time to sub him out to play defense, no ball got past him.

His long legs made most of it possible as he had the power to kick and run and even score from the center of the field.

Alfred watched from the bleachers, hands clutching the railing in excitement and watching this boy play like it was the easiest thing in the world. This is the exact person he wanted to play football with.

After the game ended (with the score in favor of the tall boy's team) he made his way down to the locker rooms. The tall boy's team was celebrating their small scrimmage victory but they mainly chatted and congratulated one another.

Alfred held his breath when the tall boy came out and he boldly stepped in front of him.

"Hey, dude! You're a pretty damn amazing player! You maybe wanna form a team with me?" Alfred shamelessly asked.

The tall boy cocked his head to the side, looking down at him in total confusion.

"I am not sure what you are meaning." he responded in a very thick Russian accent.

Alfred pouted slightly in the disappointment. He had hoped that the best player would be the most enthusiastic, but he clearly was uninterested.

"Uh, you know. Making a soccer team with me?" he clarified.

The Russian looked down at him, slightly surprised. Was this boy an idiot?

"I am already on this school's international team. I am their ace. I have no need to be joining such small-fry teams." he responded and started walking away.

That struck Alfred in an odd way. That was the famed international team!? And they all actually got along!?

Alfred stood there dumbstruck and only thought to move when the warning bell rang for class. He rushed out of the gym-maze-ium and made his way to his first class.

All day Alfred thought of that Russian guy. He could not get him out of his mind for whatever reason and it made him very upset. This Russian dude was clearly arrogant – more so than Alfred was – and he hated him for it. And that aura that surrounded the guy was intimidating enough.

When the end of the day came around and he finally met up with his brother again, after his hockey practice of course, he had to ask him about the Russian guy.

"Hey, Matty! You got any classes with a Russian guy?" he asked and Matthew seemed very confused.

"No…I have classes with a Lithuanian and a Latvian, but not a Russian. There are quite a few Russians at the school, however." Matthew responded.

"Well, you know any Russians who play on the International Team?" he asked.

Matthew immediately became stiff and he slowly nodded his head.

"You must be crazy. You're talking about Ivan Braginski!?" he said, in total shock.

Alfred looked at his brother, not understanding his alarm.

"So that's his name! Well, looks like this Ivan dude owes me an apology." he laughed and Matthew looked even more traumatized.

"An apology!?" Matthew squeaked. "What did…what are you talking about?"

"Yeah. For dissing my soon-to-be-soccer team!" Alfred clarified.

Matthew looked ready to vomit. The colors drained from his face and he stared at his dumb brother blankly.

"I'll have to tell you all the reasons why you need to fear for your life now on our way home." Matthew responded.

Alfred being the person that he is, did not even begin to understand what Matthew was talking about. All he got from the hour-long conversation was that Ivan Braginski was this big scary guy and basically Moscow's best player. He was a senior and he had a sister in college and another sister as a freshman (their grade). That only encouraged Alfred more.


	2. Chapter 2

The very next day, Alfred rushed out of his dorm and to school. His heart raced in excitement as the explanation Matthew gave last night just made him even more eager to ask Ivan to be on his soccer team. Then he could have a co-captain!

He found the senior at the front of the school, in his uniform, and talking to what appeared to be several Baltic students…and the conversation seemed rather uncomfortable.

Being the hero that he is, Alfred rushed in and tapped the Russian on his back. The tall boy looked behind him and looked down at the American.

Ivan Braginski. The only Russian student and the best goalie in the high school world. He stared down at Alfred curiously, unable to get the fact that his bright smile reminded him of sunflowers.

"Oh? You're the dumb one from before!" Ivan said, remembering where he saw him.

"I ain't that dumb!" Alfred shouted. "Besides, it's not dumb to ask the best goalie to be a player on your team, now is it?"

There was a slight silence as they stared at one another, Ivan taking in what Alfred said.

"…but it is pretty dumb to be asking me to play on a nonexistent team." Ivan finally responded.

"HEY!"

Alfred pouted and pursed his lips, crossing his arms moodily. It was true; he had no real team or even a plan for a team for Ivan to join. He only wanted to make this team for fun and to try it out and then discard it as soon as he's done! This wasn't a serious commitment, after all. That is, until a lightbulb lit in Alfred's head.

"But what if I told you that I did have a team?" Alfred said, smirking.

That made Ivan laugh a bit.

"Do you, now? Well, if you already having the team, then why are you asking me to play on it?" he asked.

Alfred deflated a little, the Russian using too much logic against his bold plans.

"Well! Because you're so good! And I want the best on my team!" Alfred responded not too solidly.

Ivan smiled at him gently. It was a warm and genuine smile rather than the usual scary grimace he gave. Alfred felt the heat rise to his cheeks and he looked at Ivan, realizing just how handsome he is.

"You don't need the talented on your team to have a strong team. You need people passionate and willing to play in order to have a strong team." Ivan said, a warm aura surrounding them.

Alfred looked up at him in shock. His heart hammered in his chest again and he felt butterflies battle in his stomach. But he grinned at Ivan regardless.

"Then I'll have the strongest team in the whole world!" he cheered and Ivan smiled a bit more.

"Then will you let me and my team play yours? Maybe if you guys are being the good enough, you'll have a spot on the International Team!" he said.

And suddenly, the world came crashing down for poor Alfred. He lost all momentum and looked up at him, now horrified.

"Y-yeah…! Sounds good…!" he stuttered out.

Much to his relief, the warning bell rang and Alfred was able to find his escape route.

"Would you look at that? Gotta get to class! See ya, Ivan!" Alfred said, running up the stairs and into the school.

His heart would not stop its intense beating nor did the embarrassment he felt evaporate. He was stuck, rushing to his class, and feeling the most humiliated he ever has. This Ivan guy was real weirdo for sending him into overdrive.

Lunch rolled around and he found his brother among the many people and tables, seeing him eating alone as usual. He rushed to his side, coming up to him in a panic.

"I UNDERESTIMATED IVAN!" he yelled, Matthew scooting back in his seat.

"…I warned you…" was all Matthew could say.

Alfred sat down beside him, holding his head in his hands as he panicked and reacted intensely to the situation. He was in trouble now.

"I told Ivan that I had a soccer team all ready and he challenged me to a game! The Inter-fucking-national team!" Alfred shouted, exasperated.

Matthew sometimes did not believe how stupid his brother could be.

"How did that happen…?" Matthew asked, feeling himself get tenser by the minute.

"I basically told the guy that I wanted him on my team and he was all like well, let me give you this challenge as I see through your bluff!" he said, leaving out the actual kind words that Ivan had said.

"Well, no offense, you're screwed." Matthew sighed.

"DUDE DON'T TELL ME THAT!" Alfred shrieked.

Matthew gave him a slight glare but that did not mean much to the desperate Alfred. As of now, Alfred was giving Matthew his infamous begging face. It always worked on the older of the twins. Matthew looked away to try and counter his brother's desperate attempts. But the longer he looked away, the more desperate he got. And soon Matthew had to break.

"Fine! What is it that you want?" Matthew demanded.

Alfred grinned a little, loving whenever he got his way. He stared at him excitedly.

"Will you start a soccer team with me!?" he asked and Matthew nearly hit his head on the table.

"Is that what you wanted?" Matthew groaned.

Alfred nodded.

"Yeah! You said that soccer, or football, is a lot like hockey. And you're on the hockey team so you can teach me some basics!" he said enthusiastically.

"But I…oh, fine!" Matthew said, giving up finally.

They started after school, after Matthew had his hockey practice, and it was pitiful. They used the smallest football practice field and Alfred insisted upon playing goalie.

Nearly every ball that Matthew kicked at him got through the goal. He managed to stop a few, as they were relatively low balls and he could stop them easily. But the balls that went up high were a lot more difficult for him to catch.

The International Team practiced as well and watched from afar the two brothers playing.

"What are they doing?" the captain, Antonio, asked.

Ivan smiled lightly, striking fear in his teammates as a smile like that from him was a very rare thing. He knew that Alfred was doing his best.


	3. Chapter 3

Grunt Work

Alfred started waking up every morning at six in order to start his work out. He would run to school and he tried eating healthier. He was going to need to be in shape to be a better player.

He had to become a more recognized athlete if he wanted people on his team.

And one person did notice his skills. Matthias Kohler approached Alfred one day. The handsome and tall Dane was not known for his athletic skills, but rather his musical abilities.

"Yo." he said one day as Alfred and Matthew started heading towards their small practice field. He was out of uniform, instead wearing a tee shirt and shorts.

"Heard that you were forming a football team? Am I right?" he asked, grinning a little.

Alfred's eyes lit up immediately and he seemed to glow at the Dane.

"Wait you mean you'll really join the team and you'll play and everything woah, dude, that's amazing!" he managed to shout in one breath.

Matthias laughed loudly, smirking lightly at the two of them.

"Well, I can't deny you now with that much enthusiasm!" he laughed. He took the ball from Matthew and did a few juggles with the ball. Alfred was easily very impressed.

"You mean you'll join my team!?" Alfred asked, grinning widely.

"Yeah! Plus it seems like you guys could use the help." Matthias said and Alfred nearly face-planted at that comment.

"Hey we're getting there! It takes time and practice." Alfred said, pouting lightly.

Matthias smirked a little and just nodded.

"Ja, I know. And that's why I have several other people who may want to join!" he said.

"Really that's awesome!"

The three began practicing together and Matthias was able to lead them through some drills. Alfred still insisted on playing goalie, even though his skills were still lacking. Matthew was practicing defense as Matthias tried to score on them.

The team was slowly coming together. Matthias had said that there were others interested. And that consisted of several more Scandinavian players.

The next practice several showed up. There was Emil Steilsson, from Iceland, Berwald Oxensteirna from Sweden, Lukas Bondevik from Norway, and Tino Vainamoinen from Finland.

"You damn Dane. You shouldn't have dragged us into a situation like this." the Norwegian hissed.

Alfred and Matthew awkwardly watched as the two went back and forth and argued. Though it was seemingly more playful than serious. Regardless, it was rather awkward.

"Uh, well thank you guys for coming." Matthew began politely.

"Yeah! Thanks for showing up, guys!" Alfred interjected.

The arguing calmed down and they soon had the attention of the Scandinavians. They returned their attention to the American.

"So, I'm just learning how to play soccer – shit, I mean – football, and I've been getting a lot of help from Matthias. How many of you have played football before?" Alfred began.

"I'm not interested in playing." Lukas said. "I'm more interested in managing the team."

Matthias grinned proudly and wrapped his arm around Lukas's waist. He beamed widely at Alfred and Matthew.

"Ja! We have a manager now! That means we can actually get food at practice!" Matthias laughed.

Lukas rolled his eyes and looked off to the side, rather bored-looking. But he said nothing more as to reignite any arguing.

"So what about the rest of you?" Alfred asked and the Finnish boy jumped in.

"Well, I've never played any football, but I did do bobsledding at home. So I just would like to experience this sport more fully!"

"I played football back in Reykjavík, so I know how to play." Emil, the Icelander, said.

The rather intimidating-looking Swedish boy just glared daggers at them.

"Ja. I'm here because Tino is here." he finally said.

"That's great! Now we just gotta figure out positions and what not!" Alfred said, grinning widely.

"But you only know goalie…" Matthew and Matthias said in unison.

Emil sighed lightly and shook his head.

"You're supposedly our captain and you don't even know the positions? Then allow me." Emil said, surprising Lukas as his little brother was not the most talkative.

"There are allowed to be at least eleven players on the field at a time. They each play different positions. On offense, you have the three strikers – the ones who score the goals. In the midfield, you have the midfielders and the stopper. The midfielders play defense and offense and can score and defend. The stopper stops the ball from getting too close to the defense.

Then there's the defense itself. There are five roles to the defense. There are the three defenders and then the sweeper and goalie. The defenders maneuver the ball out of the scoring zone. The sweeper sweeps up any remains from the play, like someone missing a ball. And we all know what the goalie does."

"Woah, dude, that's awesome!" Alfred cheered.

Emil let out a sigh after that speech and returned to his quiet self.

"So, what positions are everyone?" Alfred asked, looking at the small group curiously.

They looked at one another and then back at him and oddly enough responded with:

"I don't know."


	4. Chapter 4

Alfred had to take in the information from last night so he watched a few movies about football and they all seemed reasonable. One needs specific equipment such shin-guards and goalie gloves and of course, a team jersey.

The last part was what had Alfred so concerned. They needed a name for their team and he was not sure what to even begin calling it. He bumped into someone as he walked to school and consequently got his answer.

"The National Team!" he said. He only very slowly realized that he had bumped into someone and looked up at them, a dark red blush of embarrassment covering his cheeks.

Ivan Braginski looked back at him, looking down and cocking an eyebrow.

"It's the football boy. I wasn't expecting to see you around." he said.

A chill ran down Alfred's spine as he looked up at the Russian in horror. Not only had he bumped into him but he accidentally revealed the working name of his team to him.

"My name isn't football boy! It's Alfred F. Jones! It's not that hard of a name to remember." he puffed.

Ivan smiled a bit more and nodded.

"Da. It's actually one of the nicer American names that I have heard." he agreed and that made Alfred's skin warmer oddly enough.

"Anyway, what are you doing here?" he demanded.

Ivan cocked his head to the side.

"What am I doing here? I am attending class. Is that not what I am supposed to be doing?" he asked.

Alfred blushed worse, his face a bright red and he glared harshly at the Russian.

"W-Well…yeah! But…you know that…I uh…" he was at a loss for words.

Ivan laughed a little bit and it wasn't cold or cruel like he feared it would be. He had started to hear more rumors about the terrifying senior but they all seemed false in that moment.

"It is okay. I know it must be rather scary talking to me." he said.

"Scary? Not really. You aren't that scary." Alfred said.

Ivan blinked a bit and studied him carefully. He admired that he was getting to be more fit and he was glad that he had so much determination to actually go through with his ideas. Not to mention, he was rather attractive as well and Ivan couldn't deny that.

"You don't think I am scary?" Ivan asked for clarification.

"Pssh, nah. You should see my mother. Now she's one scary fierce lady! Plus, you're just a dude like me so that doesn't make you scary." Alfred scoffed.

Something fluttered in Ivan's chest and he smiled warmly at him. This boy was unlike any other.

The bell rang and called them back into their classes and they reluctantly parted ways. Alfred could not get Ivan out of his head, even watching him as he walked to his class. There was a strange aura about him for sure but it did not scare or intimidate him at all.

After school, the very small team gathered again. They ran laps around the field; they took shots at Alfred while he was in goal; they did small offense-defense drills, testing out everyone's abilities.

At the end, it was pretty clear where everyone was ending up. Alfred caught the last ball perfectly, even thought it was a bit out of his reach. He was able to do it.

"Look who's getting damn good at goalie!" he cheered. The others smirked a little at him.

"Now you should be able to get all those high balls." Matthias teased and Alfred could have shat bricks.

"I still need practice for that, dude!"

"Very well. Next practice, I'll have some blueprints for your positions and we can practice then." Lukas said, stepping over to the small team.

They all agreed and started heading their separate ways, unaware of the person who had been watching them the whole time.


	5. Chapter 5

The next practice was scheduled for that Friday. A lot was going on that Friday afternoon but they still had practice. Lukas was there first and he waited politely for his team to show up.

Alfred and the others followed, chatting and talking about their new positions.

Some were secure, mainly Alfred as goalie, but the others were a complete tossup. Lukas greeted everyone when they got to the field and he gestured for them to sit down.

"So, I have some working positions." Lukas began, taking out a notebook and flipping to the page where he wrote this all on.

Alfred clutched the grass at his fingertips and tore them up in his anxiousness.

"Okay. Let's start with Tino. You would make a good stopper or sweeper. But I'll put you at stopper for now and see where we can go from there."

Tino's eyes widened and he nodded his head, determined. He had never played either position but he was about to learn.

"Okay, moving on. Berwarld, we'll put you at a defense position. Since you've got a strong left right kick, I'll put you at the left so you can easily cross the field"

Berwald nodded his head in understanding.

"Alright, Emil, you'll be a midfielder but you'll focus on the right, though like Berwald, you'll be rotated when needed."

Emil sighed and nodded a little, ignoring the excited American to his left.

"Alfred, you've really improved at goal keeping but I also want you to play striker sometimes. Matthew, you can be our sweeper and back up goal keeper." Lukas said.

"What about me?" Matthias interjected.

"Oh, right. Well, I thought I told you earlier that you'd be the center forward and lead kick offs." Lukas sighed.

"Oh, ja! I forgot!" Matthias laughed.

"Don't tell me you were already drunk…"

Alfred stood there, smiling widely, looking over his small team. He felt the wind brush through his hair and race over his skin and he knew that he was happy doing this. He smiled a little more.

"Dudes, I just wanna thank you guys for-" he began but was immediately cut off thanks to a ball hitting him square in the face.

The rest of the team looked down at Alfred, then to the source of the insanely strong kick.

A young man stood there, looking rather disappointed at Alfred. He scoffed lightly and tightened his long ponytail.

"I was a little worried. I'd been hearing good things about this keeper from Bella's brother but now…" he said, his voice high but hoarse.

Alfred stood, holding his cheek where he was hit and glared hard at the boy. He spat out what little blood had accumulated in his mouth and stood tall.

"Well, I wasn't prepared, damn it!" he yelled.

The new boy laughed a bit and gave him a rather cocky smirk.

"Everyone knows that a keeper should be ready for anything." he said. "But you are right, that was a pretty fast and unexpected." he admitted.

Lukas realized just what was happening and he looked at Matthew to see if he had figured it out. Of course the native Canadian had.

"What's your problem!?" Alfred growled.

"Nothing! I just wanted to see how good this rag-tag team really was." he said, smirking widely.

Lukas stepped forward, looking at him very seriously. He held on tightly to his notebook, fingers gripping it tightly.

"Alright. If you'd like to see our skill, then as the manager, I'd suggest a scrimmage." he said, then looked to Alfred. "Captain, what do you think?"

Hearing him being addressed as captain made his heart flutter in utter happiness. He grinned widely, despite the pain in his jaw, and gave a dramatic thumbs up.

"Hell yeah! Sounds good, man!" Alfred said.

The match was very minimal and consisted of only half of the field. Alfred of course played one team's goalie (a classic skins versus shirts). The new boy played on the side where Matthew was the goalie.

Matthias won the coin toss and was given the okay to start the kick off. The skins started on offense, consisting of Matthias, Tino, Berwald, and Alfred. While the shirts consisted of the new boy, Matthew, Emil and Lukas to make the teams even.

Matthias attacked and easily got around the new boy until he was stopped by Lukas (who had a surprisingly good role on defense). The ball went up to the new boy and he took a powerful swing and nearly made the goal, had it not been for Alfred stopping it.

The ball screeched to a stop in his gloved hands and he stared at the new boy in complete shock. This guy was good. He tossed the ball back to Berwald, who in turn passed it to Tino in a rapid-fire play.

There was a rather lengthy gridlock for the thirty minute scrimmage. Fifteen minute halves and by the end of the first one, no one had scored.

The teams were already exhausted. But the new boy's eyes glimmered in excitement.

"This is better than I expected!" he said, smiling widely at the field.

Lukas finished his sip of water and called them to return to their game. This time, the new boy was attacking. He dribbled circles around Matthias and easily got past Tino, even faster than the Finn. He nearly knocked Berwald off his feet and started towards the goal.

But Alfred was ready. He was poised and his hands were in the right position to catch a low ball. Feeling confident that he could catch this head on-ball, he charged as soon as he attacked.

The ball did not go on the trajectory that Alfred thought it would. The ball instead went to the left-top of the goal and went in. The opening was almost too narrow for the ball to fit but this boy made it work.

"Woah, dude!" Alfred exclaimed, tossing the ball back to his striker.

The new boy smirked and nodded, before heading back to his side of the mini-field. The game went on for a long time and eventually ended in a tie. Alfred rushed over to the new boy and gave him a surprise hug.

…but something was off about this new player. There were two strangely soft lumps beneath his shirt. Alfred pulled back, face going white. The boy glared hard at him and promptly kicked him in the balls.


	6. Chapter 6

The boy was sat down before the rest of the team and he slowly took off his shirt, revealing a small (and ineffective) binder around his chest. He sighed lightly and took his hair out of the ponytail.

"So, you're trans!?" Alfred blurted out and the boy just glared hard at him.

"No! I'm a girl!" she shouted, making Alfred blush a bright red.

"Well, aren't you glad we're being progressive?" Matthias added and the girl glared daggers at him.

She sighed and shook her head as they were all too stupid to really get anything through to them.

"My name is Elizabeta Hedervary. I'm a Hungarian student and…I just wanted to play football again." she explained.

The team went silent as they looked at her so she could finish her explanation, which she did easily.

"Back in Hungary, I played all the time with the boys. Until they began to realize I was a girl, everything started to change. I just like playing the sport and back in my hometown, only the boys played." she said.

Alfred was the first one to break out into laughter, followed by Matthias. Soon the laughter became contagious and the whole team was laughing. Elizabeta was not happy to say the least.

"Why is this so funny to you!?" she hissed and the laughter died down significantly.

Alfred smiled at her a bit, the whole team smiling at her as well.

"We weren't laughing at you! We were laughing because no one ever said that this was an all-men's team!" Matthias explained.

Elizabeta's eyes widened and she looked up at them in total shock. She sat there, feeling oddly defeated, and then she looked back at them.

"You mean…?" she began but Alfred cut her off.

"Hell yeah! You're on the team!"

Elizabeta began the very next day. She dressed much more comfortably and she more than proved that she was good enough to play with the boys.

"Eliza, you should be on the International Team!" Matthew said one day and Elizabeta sighed a little.

"They don't allow women on the team. And even two of my closest friends who are on the team couldn't convince the coach that I should be allowed to play…" she said, but then gently smiled at him.

"But you guys are just as good as the International Team! I don't doubt that once we have a full team we can go toe-to-toe with them." she added.

Matthew blinked and nodded his head, smiling at her in return.

Lukas called the team in for the final words of the practice. It was a simple "see you next time" type of deal but the small team appreciated it nonetheless. They headed away from the field when Alfred stopped suddenly.

"What's wrong?" Matthew asked.

Alfred looked back at him and the look that Alfred gave him sent chills down his spine.

"I'm going to stay and practice for a bit longer!" he said, running back to the field. "If I'm not home by eleven, call the police!"

Matthew reached out his hand to try and stop him but he knew that it was practically futile. Once Alfred had set his mind to something, he knew that there was no getting him back.

Alfred practiced even as it got dark, practicing diving and jumping so he could catch any ball that came his way. He was so deep in his training that he did not even notice someone walk up from behind him. He only felt that strange aura.

He looked behind him and sore he felt someone there. But no one was to be seen. He turned back and screamed lightly as Ivan Braginski stood before him, towering over him.

"Practice running late?" he asked and Alfred glared up at him. He wasn't going to let this boy intimidate him.

"No! I'm choosing to practice late." he hissed and the Russian just smirked at him a bit more.

"Ah." the Russian commented. "Then you should be knowing that it's getting rather late."

Alfred glared at him lightly. Of course he knew that it was getting late and that it was nearly time for him to head in yet…

"I need to become better than you." he finally said.

Ivan's eyes gleamed in excitement, looking down at the American and smiling widely. This was the most exciting thing that he had experienced in a while.

"Then let us practice. I'll show you what it's like to be up against a professional." Ivan grinned.

Alfred got in position. He kept his arms close to his chest as he watched Ivan dribble the ball all the way to the half way line. And he started running down the field, running faster than Alfred anticipated that he would.

Ivan took a wide swing of his leg, lifted it, and slammed it on the poor ball. The ball flew straight at Alfred's face, and he was able to block just in the nick of time, but the ball still managed to bounce off his gloves and land in the net.

He hissed in frustration, tossing the ball back at the Russian. And the process repeated itself.

Alfred could not catch a single ball and even when he touched it, it went in. And when it was time for Alfred to try and score on Ivan, Ivan caught very single ball.

"Well, you do have some skill." Ivan commented after they finished, the moon now slowly starting to rise.

Alfred, panting and holding his knees as he bent over, just nodded his sweaty, exhausted head. He realized just how damn good that International Team was.

"You know, if you try hard enough, you may be able to go up against the third string." Ivan said, completely serious.

Alfred growled and glared hard up at him.

"We're much better than that! We could easily kick your collective ass together!" he yelled, the Russian smirking, eyes gleaming with intrigue.

"Oh? Is that so?" he asked.

"Yeah!" came the unwavering response.

Ivan chuckled a little and shook his head. He leaned in and gently pecked Alfred on the lips with his own. He smirked as the American froze underneath him. He quickly pulled away.

"Next Saturday we'll scrimmage. Good luck. You'll need it."

Alfred stood there dumbstruck, watching Ivan walk off. His lips tingled from that teasing kiss. He wiped his lips and looked at his now sullied hand before turning to grab his ball and rush off.


End file.
